ng during this pagan period. Just by the foot of
the stairs they paused and surveyed the scene.

"Why," said Rita, "there is Quentin--glaring insanely, silly boy."

"Do you see whom he is with?" asked Sir Lucien.

"Mollie Gretna."

"But I mean the woman sitting down."

Rita stood on tiptoe, trying to obtain a view, and suddenly:

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "Mrs. Sin!"

The dance at that moment concluding, they crossed the floor and joined
the party. Mrs. Sin greeted them with one of her rapid, mirthless
smiles. She was wearing a gown noticeable, but not for quantity, even in
that semi-draped assembly. Mollie Gretna giggled rapturously. But Gray's
swiftly changing color betrayed a mood which he tried in vain to conceal
by his manner. Having exchanged a few words with the new arrivals, he
evidently realized that he could not trust himself to remain longer,
and:

"Now I must be off," he said awkwardly. "I have an
appointment--important business. Good night, everybody."

He turned away and hurried from the room. Rita flushed slightly and
exchanged a glance with Sir Lucien. Mrs. Sin, who had been watching
the three intently, did not fail to perceive this glance. Mollie Gretna
characteristically said a silly thing.

"Oh!" she cried. "I wonder whatever is the matter with him! He looks as
though he had gone mad!"

"It is perhaps his heart," said Mrs. Sin harshly, and she raised her
bold dark eyes to Sir Lucien's face.

"Oh, please don't talk about hearts," cried Rita, willfully
misunderstanding. "Monte has a weak heart, and it frightens me."

"So?" murmured Mrs. Sin. "Poor fellow."

"I think a weak heart is most romantic," declared Mollie Gretna.

But Gray's behavior had cast a shadow upon the party which even Mollie's
empty light-hearted chatter was powerless to dispel, and when, shortly
after midnight, Sir Lucien drove Rita home to Prince's Gate, they were
very silent throughout the journey. Just before the car reached the
house:

"Where does Mrs. Sin live?" asked Rita, although it was not of Mrs. Sin
that she had been thinking.

"In Limehouse, I believe," replied Sir Lucien; "at The House. But I
fancy she has rooms somewhere in town also."

He stayed only a few minutes at Prince's Gate, and as the car returned
along Piccadilly, Sir Lucien, glancing upward towards the windows of a
tall block of chambers facing the Green Park, observed a light in one of
them. Acting upon a sudden impulse, he raised the speakin